What it feels like to be a hostage

Dreams are an unusual thing. They are simulations to what you potentially (or not very potentially) would face and because often times, you cannot differentiate between reality or dream, your reaction would be of what you would do in real life.

The intensity of my dream last night was so high that it prompted me to write this piece. It has very much to do with the terrorism stand-off in Lahad Datu. I didn’t really follow up with the news, nor do I talk about it much, so it was interesting to know that the crisis played a big role in my dream.

My dream:

My friends and I were in Ikea shopping when a group of armed men entered the premises and seized the place. As we were in an isle and surrounded by shelves, the only way out was blocked by armed men. So we were stuck there.

Everyone who were scattered around the mall were told to move in a section of the mall where hostages were held. As my friends and I were walking towards the hostage zone, I saw a family of four walking in line with the children in front and parents at the back. Because they were walking slow, one of the armed men took an axe and threw it to the family which hit the centre of their child’s body. He collapsed and dies. Laughter and cheers were followed later by the armed men. The child was probably around 5 or 6 years old. Knowing that made me scared out of my mind.

In the hostage zone, we were told to get in line according to where we’re from; Sabah, Sarawak and others. Some tried to run away only to be axed afterwards and die. As we were in our line, our bags were ransacked. My laptop was taken away and I was somewhat relieved that it wasn’t my life that was taken away. We were then told to move to another part of the mall which was also a hostage zone.

As we, together with hundreds other, were sitting and walking about fearing for our lives, my family’s faces flashed before me. “This will be the last time I would see them,” I thought. I started to cry.

Standing near me was this girl I used to know. She was a familiar face but I didn’t know where I have met her before. She was drinking orange juice while looking out at the window when she accidentally started laughing and bits of juice were sprinkled outside.

An officer who was standing outside of the window looked into the window and looked at her. With an angry tone, he asked her, “Was it you who spit the orange juice at me? How dare you!” And he took a gun and shoot her.

My friend, J, bless his soul, ran to the girl immediately and tried to revive her. “Wake up! Wake up!” He shouted while shaking her. While I closed my eyes from seeing the body, a shot was heard, followed by a scream. I opened my eyes and there was J lying on the floor, emotionless.

Then I woke up, took my phone and wrote about my dream.

I have never been so scared and violated in my life. Although it was a dream, the situation in it was so intense. Every movement I make feels like a death trap for me. A small wrong move would eventually lead me to be either axed or shot, and worse part is, anyone can die, even a small child.

Fucking terrorists.

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2 thoughts on “What it feels like to be a hostage

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